


Sunlit Goodbyes

by imperfectandchaotic



Series: Midnight Mettle [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, I will never be over somewhere only we know okay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectandchaotic/pseuds/imperfectandchaotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...we get that this, him going back, is hard on both of you, because he's getting his family back and we're losing someone who changed us forever. But it's going to be okay, Blaine. I promise." </p>
<p>Wes, David, Klaine, and the Somewhere performance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunlit Goodbyes

"He's going back."

Wes and David exchange a look that is part surprise, part horror, and part pity all rolled up into the space of a single heartbeat. Blaine stands between them in their admittedly cramped dorm room, shaking just as he had a minute ago, bursting into the room without so much as a halfhearted knock. For a long moment ( _toolonghurryupandsaysomething)_ it is unnervingly quiet as two digest and the third tries visibly not to crumple to the floor.

"Kurt told you that?" Wes ventures, if only for something to say, but not really because most of his brain refuses to believe it. Blaine nods, his expression only adequately described as miserable. David puts one hand on his friend's arm and pushes gently towards the closest bed into a sitting position. Wes sinks next to his fellow Council member on David's own bed, suddenly grateful that he doesn't have to stand anymore.

"Did he say why? I thought he was better here. You know, after everything."

The pair watches as their star Warbler swallows with clear effort. They wait patiently, calmly as friends do. "He misses them," Blaine says finally. His voice cracks and drops about three decibels. He doesn't seem to have the energy to regain normal volume. "So much. They're his family. He needs them. He's so much stronger now than he was, so much braver..."

"Brave enough to go back," David finishes for him, just as quietly. Even through his obvious anguish Blaine's voice is still filled with pride. Pride, adoration, love. It's kind of heartbreaking. "You're not fighting him on this?"

"He deserves to be happy." There is a certain tint of resignation to the statement, guarded and defensive as it is. That is kind of heartbreaking too.

"So do you." David shoots Wes another look then, a look that speaks of warning and restraint. Blaine looks up at this. His eyes are red rimmed, too bright in the semi-darkness of the setting sun outside the window. Wes lets out a breath and continues, sifting through feelings and trying to find the right combination of words that will explain them. So far Honours English is not doing him any good.

"You deserve to be happy Blaine. I remember the person you were when you first arrived here, flinching at sudden movements and ducking your head so no one could really ever look you in the eye." The pain flashes clear and fast through the other boy's pale face, but the Council member quickly does away with the bitter tang of regret in his mouth. "You were..."

"A lot like Kurt," David supplies, the moment between best friends apparently forgotten. "And then you found us, the Warblers, and it seemed like you were alright for once. You grew into this awesome stage presence and role model and friend, and when Kurt strolled in pretending to be a new student—"

"It was like looking into a Pensieve." Take that, Honours English. Wes and David are now on a roll. "A memory, you know?" Of course Blaine knows. He smiles a little, so faint you couldn't tell if was there if you couldn't read tell tale twitch of his lip. "We saw you in him that day. I'm sure you did too."

Their prized soloist says nothing, so still the pair stumbles on. "I guess now that it's happened we can tell you." Wes purses his lips thoughtfully. "The Warblers had a pool going on how long it would take for the two of you to wise up and get together."

Blaine makes a noise of what they take as astonishment and indignation. It's actually kind of...endearing. "When you finally did," David says, arching an affectionate eyebrow, "it was like every moment of good karma the Warblers had ever given was emanated by the two of you. No two people deserve each other as much you and Kurt, Blaine. You guys understand each other in ways no one else can, on levels that are somewhere only you know. And that's what makes you so special. He makes you happy, and rightly so."

"We just want you to know that." Wes reaches out and squeezes Blaine's knee. "You deserve to make each other happy. And we get that this, him going back, is hard on both of you, because he's getting his family back and we're losing someone who changed us forever. But it's going to be okay, Blaine. I promise."

Tears spill over Blaine's cheeks and both David and Wes feel their hearts lurch. It's been years since they've seen him cry. "I shouldn't be feeling so selfish right now." His eyes wander from senior to senior, wide and imploring and  _sad_. "I shouldn't just want him to stay because—because of  _us._ I should be happy for him, right? I shouldn't want to get on my knees and beg him to stay here, with me. It's what's best for him...I want him to do what's best for him."

His voice hitches and falls silent. The pair in front of him let their eyes take in every detail of the (ugly) grey carpet beneath their feet as they wait for composure to find Blaine again.

"You really care about him, don't you." There is no question here. Just a confirmation of truth. David smiles kind of crookedly, his eyes warm with kindness and understanding. Blaine just nods, swallowing again. He doesn't have to say it. Not to them. "You know Wes, I think it's time we flex these informal setting muscles again. I hear the crowd at McKinley High's pretty wild."

The younger boy's mouth falls open in an expression so openly grateful that Wes has to quell the sudden urge to get his gavel and beat some normalcy into the situation.

"I couldn't agree more."

**k.b**

On Kurt's last day, Blaine fumbles through so many numbers it's actually kind of painful to watch. But Wes, David, and Thad carry on, too afraid to end practice early and pretend they haven't noticed two shells of former Warblers standing one riser apart. They want to give Kurt this one last act of Dalton Warbler decorum, as frail and transparent as that is. In any case, as everyone save Kurt and Blaine file out to Wes's meaningful look, it will not  _technically_ be the last.

They have a plan. But of course, when do Wes and David  _not_ have a plan?

As soon as the door swings closed, the Warblers hold a collective breath. From behind the door comes Kurt's muffled, trembling voice.

"This does not change anything I have ever felt for you. Not for a second."

And then Wes shoos them all away, handing out sheet music as they go. When Blaine rejoins them later, much much later with those same sad, red rimmed eyes, everyone has the decency to pretend they don't notice.

And so, in the darkness of night, filtered only by faint starlight and full of promise, they begin to sing. They can only hope it's enough for their hearts that are all so heavy with sadness, and enough for Blaine, who looks too much like a ghost as midnight comes and goes to the sound of perfect harmonies.

**k.b**

They call Finn. It's all arranged. Blaine, sitting alone at the back of the bus, is silent the entire way to Lima. He did not sleep well. Wes and David do not have to spur him on as the outdoor courtyard comes into view; the unmistakable fashion sense that is Kurt's alone guides Blaine like a beacon of light through the bleakest of fogs. Except this metaphor isn't exactly appropriate today of all days, thanks to the sunlight that makes even this concrete space somewhere worthy of beauty and heart.

At least, that's what they're here to prove.

Wes is sure that people are staring. Why wouldn't they be? Here are two dozen boys in uniform, standing in their courtyard and looking down at a boy they probably don't even recognize. It's something he's always hated about large schools. He could walk the halls of Dalton and name every face, whether they be his friend, his acquaintance, or the new freshman who was late his first day. Everyone belonged. Everyone mattered.

Here, in the place they don't belong, the Warblers steady Blaine as he lays his heart out, underneath warm sun and cold stares and the gaze of the one person who outshines them all. They're descending the steps like a single, waving flag of courage. People with instruments are just  _appearing_ , and others whisper as Blaine's voice trembles, whipping down the stairs to the piano and pounding on old keys that aren't quite strong enough to tell Kurt everything he wants to say.

(And through that one chorus a glimmer of hope rises, because here is Blaine the showman, the dapper lead soloist of the Dalton Academy Warblers, back again from that dark place that held him down since the person that made him whole slipped away like fragile notes in the spring air.)

David knows these people are thinking this is crazy, that this  _guy_  is serenading this other  _guy,_ that they're both  _crying_ , where did that piano come from? And what the hell is going on? But it doesn't matter. All that matter is Kurt, and as the Warblers line up one by one to hug him, grasp his hand or shoulder, explain without words the way he just waltzed into their lives and shook them upside down, and how grateful they are because they're better now for it,  _don't you know, Kurt? Don't you know how much we'll miss you and your voice and your changes and your heart?_

But even as they pass him by, even as Wes and David stand together and smile at him, giving way to Finn and Mercedes, the only person who really wants this—needs this—more than perhaps all of them combined, is Blaine. Blaine, who is still singing and still holding it together as he says goodbye in the only way people like Blaine and Kurt, New Directions and the Warblers, really know how.

Through music.

As the song winds down, all that's really left is the pair standing together at the bottom of the steps. Amidst all the furor of the Warblers and the hushed voices of strangers and the steady presence of Kurt's New Directions family, there is only Kurt and Blaine. It is too intimate, too personal, too gut-wrenching and beautiful for undeserving eyes and yet there they stand, surrounded by people who will never know the true story behind what has happened here today.

Because it's not just a song, a serenade, a very public display of affection that will stay with most for a very long time.

It is a goodbye. It is a farewell and a promise and an  _I love you, my god how I love you, I can't even say it out loud but you understand, don't you? You understand that I wish you didn't have to go, that I never ever want to have to say goodbye ever again?_

The sun was shining on the day Blaine said goodbye to Kurt, if only for the time being. The day he tells Wes and David he's leaving Dalton for McKinley, sunlight pours into the window of the tiny dorm room like a huge moment of clarity.

For Blaine, that is. Wes and David can't say they were surprised in the least.

David wins that pool.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *hits repeat on youtube*
> 
> *sobs*


End file.
